


The Appalachian Shangri-la; or How to Find Happiness After The Collapse

by Hammarbomber



Series: The Days After the Final Depression [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anthropomorphic, Bipedal Insectoid, F/M, Impregnation in later chapters, Multiple Arms, Multiple Orgasms in upcoming chapters, Transformation, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28536798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammarbomber/pseuds/Hammarbomber
Summary: A city razed to the ground.  A group of survivors ambushed.  Loved ones thought lost.  A changed fate.What will be discovered of oneself after the world they've grown in is shattered?
Relationships: Original Female Character & Original Male Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: The Days After the Final Depression [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011363
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**The Appalachian Shangri-La; or How to Find Happiness After Collapse**

By Hammarbomber on Furaffinity.net and Archive of Our Own

The day grew late, the sun casting shadows of the clouds upon the snowcapped summits in the distance, the only ones who witnessed such beauty being the traveling group of twenty-four that traversed along the towering structures ancient. The group was mostly human, save for three of their number: the captain of the guard, their scout, and their escortee as they moved through a mountainous path, a river babbling to their left and trees emanating the chirps and trills of songbirds, the only sound not made by nature was the footfalls and squeaking bearings of the group's supply carriage, their armor growing rust from their weeks of marching and wear, dents from sword slashes and glancing arrows and punctures from firearms and lances, those punctured plates mismatching the rest.

“How long have we been marching?” one of the guards asked, his helmet punctured above the left brow.

“ _Fleeing,_ you mean?” the captain returned, three clicks leaving him after his quipping answer, his wings buzzing momentarily in irritation. “I do not know, just that we have been for.... some time. I do not remember the phase of the moon when the assault came.”

“Enough, the both of you! We stop when we reach the shores of Michigan, where we can rebuild.” a feminine voice cut through the silence that settled after the captain's explanation, her own wings buzzing from atop the carriage before a quiet hissing sigh came from her. “I know the journey's long, but we'll be safe from them up there. We lost Apia-knows-how-many in the pass alone. Do you think those Mad Maxers will survive that unsteady terrain with those rag-tag machines that're always on the edge of throwing pistons?”

“I am... sorry, my Queen. I have just grown tired of the privates' incessant questioning.”

“I know, I am too. But we have to keep moving and quiet.”

A soft buzzing came from in front, the scout's flight unsteady and one of his four arms missing as he fell to the earth in front of them.

“Ma- Maxers, further ahea-” the Apian said, his left primary arm coming to his mouth as he coughed, red droplets slipping through his two true fingers as he struggled to his feet, only to collapse moments later, two human guards rushing to catch him before he hit the ground.

His right secondary arm hovered over a bleeding wound over his tattered linothorax breastplate, the area stained red around a puncture before it fell limp, the scout's eyes sliding closed as the two guards pulled him towards the carriage.

“He... is gone.” a deep wheeze came from the captain before he continued, “Strip him of his gear and prepare a shallow grave, we do not have time to bury him.”

The captain moved towards the carriage with purpose, a slight limp every other step, his long rifle aiding him as a cane or walking stick.

“You must go, my queen. They are near if our scout drew his last breath in our presence. Go!”

“I won't leave you, Captain. You are par-” The queen began to protest her captain's action, rising up from the driving seat of the carriage.

“I am only a soldier, Princess Amber. _You_ are the hive. My life has no value without you, and the weight your word has. As a soldier, my goal in life is to protect you, and as a commander, I do not have the forces to defend you as we are. Take my rifle,” the Captain thrust his weapon into her hands before he resumed, “And go to Michigan's shores. To the Vale.”

“I-I can't, not without you, uncle!”

“You must.” The distant roar of engines, the pathway rumbling from the near-destruction of them, before he spoke again, his voice calm but urgent. “Go.”

The engines' roars grew louder and louder before Amber took to wing, diving into the trees as the reports of auto rifles and the cracking boom of black powder consumed the buzz of her own wings, the trees beginning to glow oranges as the carriage burned, sobs barely registering to her as she reached the New River, the now-hiveless princess crashing against the shore, the chitin over her head and chest scuffing from the collision, the transparent chitin 'visor' over her eyes preventing gravel from blinding her before she picked herself up and brought herself away from the water's edge and sitting beneath a tree as the final rays of sunlight left the snowcaps high above her, her secondary arms bringing her knees to her chest, her primary hands gripping her calves as she cried herself to sleep.


	2. Wandering, Only to be ushered

Sunlight shone through the leafless canopy as the jeering of blue jays sounded, the sources unhappy with the sleeping humanoid, her four arms wrapped tightly around her uncle's rifle, the soft, intermittent puffs of steam emanating from the receiver having kept her warm through the night before she stirred from the ear-raking sounds, hands gripping the rifle tightly as she rose slowly before meandering along the river, paces short, trudging, and slow. The Apian nearly stumbled into the near-freezing water and her unsure footing fumbled over frosted stones, secondary arms hanging limply by her sides while her main ones loosely hung in front of her, the rifle tethering their movements together. Her head hung low, antennae hanging weakly and bobbing meekly when she caught herself from falling, and her mind disregarding the growls of an empty stomach and the environment around her, the tight-fitting and light clothing she wore doing little to protect her from the wind and the chill on the air.

“Hey, you alright? You shouldn't be out here in clothing that light.” She was aware of the male voice, but continued walking along the river without paying heed to his question.

“Did you hear me? You could freeze out here, particularly given the snow's closing in.”

No response from her, aside from the sound of gravel being pressed together underfoot. The male moved into her view, heavy furs draping his frame as he matched pace as he walked backwards with her, a hand waving in front of her face.

“Ma'a-”

“I did.”

“Ah.” came from him as he lowered the raised hand before pulling the hood of his furs back, a mud painted human face with nearly-irisless-in-appearance eyes glinting softly in the afternoon sun.

“I.... had a hard night last night.”

A sound of understanding came from the man as he moved to her side as he began to undo some of the mother-of-pearl toggles holding the outermost layer of his sheepskin ensemble, the garment externally resembling a trench coat as he drapes it over the Apian's shoulders, the female not reacting aside from her secondary arms pulling it close around her subconsciously.

“You're not the only one. Mad Maxers tried to rush the gates of my home village, only for them to be beaten away.” he returns softly, their staggered footfalls slowly melding into one sound as they strode along the shoreline without much thought. “Scouts got sent out to recover what spikes they could, and cut the wrecks of the war machines that didn't run away apart, one of them even said they thought they saw fire further in the woods.”

“Wh-where?”

“Towards a path that was wide enough for their cars to drive up and down at the same time. We planted some charges along that path designed to unsteady it, and they worked. I got sent up there to investigate the fire, and the side away from the mountains gave way, with cars wrecked at the bottom.”

“A-anythi-ing on the path?” soft sobs crept into her voice as the question was asked, shoulders trembling softly.

“A burnt carriage before the new gully that was made by the Maxers not being careful, and a wounded one like you. Found a dead one and something like eighteen dead men in battered armor too around it, the injured guy's missing an arm now, but I got him stable enough to move back to the village.”

Her pace slowed before coming to a stop, and fell to her knees as she began to truly sob in earnest, her arms cradling the rifle as she started to slowly rock back and forth, soft whispers coming from her as she hugged it.

“Ma'am?”

“He's-he's alive. He's alive.”

“Ma'am?” A concerned tone crept into the man's voice as she softly swayed forward and back.

“M-my uncle, you saved my uncle!”

“We need to get to the village. He needs to know you're alive.” He knelt down as he placed a hand on her shoulder, his other open in offering to help her to her feet.

“Ye-yeah.” She reached out with a primary arm, the secondary on the same side taking its place in hugging the rifle tight to her body before the two started jogging along the shore until evening, the river's speed slowing to a near-standstill as its bed became smoother, the surface eventually freezing thick enough to support their weight as they wandered.

“It'll be noon tomorrow when we get back, luckily I've been out here enough to know the deer trails and frequent them enough to get dens-slash-campsites made up, one's not far ahead, and the night can freeze a person cold. I'm amazed you didn't die last night.”

“My... my uncle's rifle has... something in it, he never said what it was, just that it's critical to its function and gives off heat.” she murmured softly, her secondary arms caressing the rifle's receiver softly as she spoke.

“What's it shoot?”

“I.. think some kind of spike. Long, square, and with a mushroom head that is kind of lopsided.” The crunch of gravel gave way to the rustling of leaves and soft crushing of snow underfoot as they spoke.

“Railway Rifle, so an RTG, a radio-thermal generator. A tad dangerous, but if kept in good condition should be safe to use. Make sure it doesn't get damaged, it'll be lethal.” the man stated as they walked along a narrow trail carved into the snow, the height slowly growing taller and taller until it reached the Apian's hips, and continued along that height as the sun began to set. “In here, got a small kitchen and some stores in there if you're hungr-” He motioned towards a small cave beneath a large boulder while he spoke, getting cut off by her stomach growling rather loudly shortly after. “That answers that.”

He ducked down a little as he entered the cavity, the Apian following closely with rifle by her hip, the dark momentarily denying her vision as she heard him rustling about the room before hearing the sound of wood rubbing against wood, and small orange embers about waist-high for her before tiny orange flames flickered to life.

“Forgive the lack of lighting, there's some wickreeds just inside the entrance if you can bring me one.” he asked, the flames' weak light highlighting his arm as he pointed to the wickreeds' resting place at eye-level to the left of her, before she reached up with her secondary arm on that side and plucked three from the shelf.

“These?” she questioned as she moved towards him, a quiet click denoting her footfalls as she approached, the hand with the reeds raised for a moment.

He looked towards her for a brief moment before he answered, “Yeah, those.” He softly grabbed the wickreeds from her and held one to the small fire before putting it in a rush-holder, nothing more than some narrow iron bar bent into a tripod with a ring at the intersection of the legs, and repeating the action twice more, the small pentagonish alcove becoming alit through gentle orange flames and revealing the room to be large enough for three to be comfortable in, but only one bed and a simple stone counter hewn by hand and a small oven built into the wall at the short end, shelves carved into the same stone as the counter and stocked with breads, cheeses, fresh, salted and dried meats and jugs of water and weak mead.

“Why only one bed?” the Apian asked as she leant her uncle's rifle against it, the weight of the longarm revealing the bed's soft nature as the man moved towards the entrance, grunts and sounds of straining coming from him as he slid a built door over the gap to keep out the cold before he returned to the counter, the tiny fire flickering away as he put slightly bigger sticks than twigs or saplings on it.

“Not often I have others with me, frankly. Not many can stay out here, particularly with all the Mad Maxer patrols. Probably one ambushed you guys as you came through the pass.” He replied, a tin pot and stand clattering softly as he set them up near the open fire and poured water in to two-thirds the tin pot's volume. “Gonna make some cheese soup with shredded rabbit, got some of the rabbit left over from last night, if you want any.”

“Yes, thank you. I'll take any meal at this point. May I ask what kind of cheese?” she returned, sitting on the bed softly, her abdomen curling around her hip as she did.

“Appalachian White Cheddar, we believe we've gotten close to true Cheddar cheese. Only way to know is to get someone from Cheddar, Somerset in England and have them try it. Bread's johnnycakes that I made about a week ago,” came from him as he stirred the soup slowly, before motioning towards the oven to his left, “Bowls and other dishes and cutlery I store in there, should be clean.”

The Apian stood up from the bed softly, the rifle beginning to slide towards her with the sound of its barrel rubbing against the stone before she caught it with her secondary right arm, her primary on the same side correcting the weapon as she began to walk towards the counter, her chitin-heels tacking quietly with each step before coming to a stop, the sound of wood scraping against the stone countertop as she pulled the oven door away and pulled the dishes the man requested from it, the ceramic of the bowls skittering across the counter's surface.

“You're using old bread in this soup? Won't we get sick from it?” she asked as he began to crumble the cornbread into it.

“If it was moldy, yes. I have the town baker make hardtack from any buckwheat I bring back in exchange for him allowing me to twice-bake any bread I make. Hardtack's hard enough to use as armor if made right, found that out in an.... _interesting,_ way.” the man responded as he began to ladle out portions for them and moved towards the bed.

“How, if I may ask?” she asked, sitting down to his left as she inquired.

“Psycho tried to shank me, hardtack biscuit I had in a sash was over my heart when it caught the knife. He tried to pull it out, but took the sash with him. Managed to get him after he got the sash draped over his head, and got my sash back. Baker had a field day with that.” was his answer, a slight chuckle coming from him as he finished.

A chortle came from her in return, the sound almost like ice tinkling in the distance before she took a spoonful of the soup, a sound of surprise sneaking its way from her as she tasted it. “This... isn't half-bad for something that simple.”

“Yep, makes for a good pick-me-up after a winter's day scouting, and dirt cheap.” he quipped, tapping his horn-hewn spoon against the plain ceramic bowl before a calm quiet took to the air, both enjoying the warmth the soup filled them with and the sporadic small talk they engaged.


	3. Hammer's Law; or The Law of Two Teenagers Left in a Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the lewd one!

The clinking of ceramic on stone quietly broke the silence that had permeated the air around the two as the wind howled against the boulders surrounding them, muffled by the massive natural structures, the gale outside lashing against the door with near-inaudible thumps of clumps of snow, an occasional sigh coming from one of them as they sprawled on the bed, the Apian's buzzing gently every-so-often as she rested her head on the man's shoulder.

“We'll be able to get to your town, won't we?” the female asked him, her secondary arms lightly taking his forearm in a calming grip while her primary right rested on his chest, the knee on the same side of her form lying between his own and her abdomen-tail draped over his shin.

“Maybe. That door's not coming down easily, though. Wind'll have to move a few tons of earth to move it an inch.” was his answer, his left hand moving to his chest, the Apian's fingers twining with his for a moment before he pulled away, her wings buzzing with indignity but the sound meek.

A hushed whisper came from her as the arm on his chest moved off it, gripping his right arm weakly swiftly after, the action drawing his eyes to hers.

“Sorry, I shouldn't have done that.” came from her as she felt his eyes land on her, unaware of what her body was displaying to him.

“You alright? You're flushed in the face.”

That flush burned more intensely at the comment from him, the humming of her wings stopping dead at the realization.

“Ma'am?”

“I, uh....” the Apian returned, eyes darting around trying to explain what her body felt. “Iiiii thought your hand was cold, so I figured I'd hold you-It! Your hand, the thing you pick things up with, that.”

The blush tinted her yellow cheeks orange as her grip on his arm tightened, her antennae standing nearly straight in embarrassment.

“Ma'a-”

“I'mfineI'mfine.” tore from her before her wings started to vibrate, not exactly a buzz, but something of a nervous tic she was all to aware of, her train of thought barreling past the rational station before she even realized what she was about to say; “What'syourname? Idon'tthinkweknoweachother'sna-”

Her hands flew up to her mouth just before the sentence could finish, the blush shifting the straw gold pigment in her cheeks to a burnt orange as she began to huff through nostrils hidden in short fuzz, the breaths fast-paced and shallow.

A heavy silence stood in the air between them as the predicament climaxed, her eyes wide and looking at the man that saved her in a combination of emotions before her breath began to slow and deepen, and the man that saved her sitting in perplexity and confusion at her recent acts. Her hands slowly lowered one by one until they had returned to her sides, a gathering sigh coming from her, a soft pvc recorder-like tone accompanying it.

“Let's.... retry that, Amber. Let's retry that.” the Apian whispered to herself, a hand running over a chitinoid visor as she did so, shoulders squaring out as she went into a diplomat mindset, left primary jutting out in offering of a handshake as she began to speak. “I'm Amber, princess of Hive Dadia-Miam, to the south some distance. Who are you?”

The man sat there in stunned silence for a brief few moments, his back against what would qualify for a stone headboard before he looked her up and down twice before his mind registered her question.

“Her- Heir-appartment- _Heir-apparent_ Tusen Alvarich,” was his response, a hand taking hers gingerly as he gave her a wary side-eye before he pointed to her briefly, a question on his lips, “And are you okay?”

A semi-relieved, semi-fustrated sigh left her at his question before she answered, “Yes, I am, just a bit of biolosophy? Bioscopy? How-the-body-works word got the better of me there.”

“Biology?”

“Yes, that one!”

“How?”

That question robbed Amber of some of her confidence that she had built as the blush spread slightly downwards before she murmured under her breath, secondary hands picking at one another gently as the sound came from her, the howl drowning the words out.

“What was that?”

She repeated what she said, the words just barely audible over the wind; “I'm a queen yellow bumblebee-morph, for more than just being a daughter of an actual Queen. Actual queens have an emphasis on the word, and the non-emphasis way of saying it is used to refer to any female, and because I'm 'royalty'”, she wiggled her head a little at the word, “My body wants to be 'claimed' by any male I spend more than a few hours with, kinda like the typical teenage randiness hum-”

A loud thump against the door cut her explaining off, the suddenness of the sound causing her to flinch and dive towards Tusen, the impact of her against him causing an ungraceful 'OOF' to come from the both of them and momentarily disorienting him, the golden northern bumblebee-morph staring apprehensively at the door with eyes as wide as dinner plates, her arms pinning his to his sides as she pulled close to him.

“Please tell me no one's out there.” Amber whimpered softly, eyes not leaving the source of the spooking sound as her antennae lay nearly flat against her face, the tips nearly reaching her nose.

“With the wind howling like it is, I imagine it was a stick or tree limb getting knocked loose.” Tusen whispered, a hand on one of hers, thumb rubbing softly against the semi-soft chitin on the back of them.

“Okay.” murmured from her, before her grip loosened enough for him to move an arm to rest over her shoulder. She muttered a soft query, the tone unsure, “Where was I?”

“Explaining why you're acting the way you are.” came from Tusen, the tone caring and soft.

“Right.” a soft hum came from her wings as she began, “Unemphasized queens have a pseudoheat, basically their body's saying that they feel comfortable around a drone, that happens at any moment so long as they've been with each other for.... half a day, maybe? I don't recall. With me having been born royalty, that pseudoheat gets me flustered _really_ easily, and being the fourteenth daughter out of twenty kids means that my parents didn't see much greatness in me, to the point my dad, the King of Dadia-Miam, thought I shouldn't be given an inkling of how my body works outside of what was taught publicly.” she whispered, antennae rising slowly as she explained, her form shimmying closer to his towards the end and taking one of his hands in hers before placing it on the right hip, the soft hum of her wings growing softer as his wrist grazed their tips, a soft sigh coming from her as she felt his fingers gently rub against the skin, the sound of it like a singing wine glass.

“Will it get any worse?”

She shook her head gently in response to Tusen's question, before he began to undo the hook-and-clasp fasteners on the front of his cotton gambeson with one hand.

“What are you doing?” Amber asked, fully sitting up slowly from where she had lent on him, her left arms supporting her weight as he tossed the garment aside, subtle muscles lining his entire front, the occasional slash-scar crossing his form and a starburst scar just to the right of his left shoulder.

“Well, we can't go out in weather like this, not safely, and your current condition might make it hard for us to sleep. Not to mention if we do it I won't have to marry a bike when we get there.” came from him as he laid back on the bed, a huff of minor frustration coming from him as he settled.

A sound of agreement came from his female bedmate as she laid down next to him, head cradled in the crook of his neck before she began to pant softly and rubbed her nose against his jawline.

“I... I...” slipped from Amber as she kept nuzzling against his jaw, her eyes fluttering as she relinquished control to her arousal, her right secondary hand moving to Tusen's stomach, just below his navel before a coherent sentence slipped from her as she moved herself to straddle him; “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” left him, a whisper on his lips as she lent forward, primary arms coming to rest on his shoulders as she drew close to his lips, her secondary arms working to undo the small brooch on his pants before he closed the hands-breadth of distance between their lips, a squeak of surprise coming from her for a moment before it turned into a handpan-like hum of pleasure, a hand of his slipping to the nape of her neck as her secondaries began to slip his pants down.

She tried to break the kiss he had initiated, the first tug away being countered by the hand on her neck before he slowly pulled his lips from hers, their soft panting the only sound before she locked lips with him, the pants having been pushed down to his knees and her secondaries roamed upward, her hips lowering onto his before she broke the kiss again and sat up on his lap, all four of her arms undoing the various fasteners of her garment and pulling it off her form and tossing it aside. Her primaries came to her breasts, the straw golden chevron above her breasts tinted to bronze from her arousal as her hands pushed them up once before she spoke, tone questioning but distracted. “What do you think?”

“Beautiful. Most of the girls I know would _kill_ for a bust like that. How big?” came from the male beneath her, a huff of lust coming from him as he finished his question, his length stirring from its prison that pinned it against him.

“Thirty-eight dee. Mom was a thirty-six.” was her reply, shifting her hips back and forth slightly as she spoke, lust set alight as she felt his tool swell slightly as she began to lean forward again. “Seamstress said I had the best figure to work with.” wisped from her before she planted kisses on Tusen's lips, never holding for more than a moment as she teased him.

“I-” he began a sentence before he was cut off by a peck from her, “can-” a tap of their lips, “see,” a third kiss, lingering and adorative before she pulled away for only a moment, the man's lips pursuing hers and catching their prize, a delighted sound coming from Amber as her wings began to hum quietly, her mons rubbing against his length before he broke the kiss. “I'll have fun making clothes for yo-”

She closed the gap between them again just before he could finish, the act drawing a moan from him, his hands wandering across her form before they came to rest on her waist and squeezed slightly before one continued southwards, fingers grazing her belthips and true hips before settling at the base of her abdomen-tail, his length flexing against her stomach as a soft growl left him.

“Gods above, she wasn't joking.” a pant from him chasing what he said before the hand at her abdomen-tail gripped softly and coaxed her up, his penis trailing down her mons as she rose. “She really wasn't.” Tusen muttered, the hand on her waist moving to his length as she moved forward slightly, the male guiding her along the process, his tip grazing her clit and earning a surprised squeak from her.

“Wh-what happens now?” Amber asked, pants slowing her speech slightly as her slit started to softly kiss his glans, the question ending just as a glob of pre slipped from him, his length flinching forward as that glob dribbled down his length.

“Is this your first time? It's important.” was the counter-question, his hand softly squeezing her rump to drive home the seriousness of his words, pants doing the same to his speech as it did to hers.

A nod and hum of approval came from her.

“Ok, I'll go slow then.”

His length flexed again, the tip brushing her nub a second time, before he aligned with her entrance and pushed down gently, gasps of pleasure coming from the Apian as she was lowered onto his length, the sounds like a mostly-empty singing wine glass before she started moaning and her hands moved to his wrists.

“Fast-” a moan of pleasure from her, trails of their mixed pre running down him, “Faster, please.”

“Not-” a grunt from him as she clenched around his glans, “Not yet. You're a virgin, we've gotta go slow so you can ad-” a huff from him as she began to push back against his length, “adjust.”

He let gravity sink her onto his shaft, her hands gripping his wrists before she flinched upwards slightly, confusion and minute pain on her features before he explained what was about to happen, the hand on his length moving to her mons before he spoke again.

“Eas-” a clench from her, “Easy. That twinge of pain you felt was your cherry being stretched a little.”

She moved the pair of hands on his right wrist from it before resting them on his shoulders, legs holding her where she felt the twinge, soft huffs coming from her before she breathed out a question, fingers on her primary curling weakly; “So,” a pant slipped from her as she mimed swallowing, “What do we do?”

“We go slow.” was his response before he eased her down, her legs beginning to slip underneath her for what felt like hours to the both of them before a quiet chirp left her, Tusen's hands lifting slightly as her eyes watered slightly, a single drop of red standing out against his length's oaken hue.

“You alright, Amber?”

A brief nod from her accompanying a hum of weak approval as her right pair of hands parted his left wrist, the secondary planting itself on his abs just above his navel before she spoke; “We... can go faster now, right?”

“Yeah. Any pace you want.”

That answer bolstered the confidence she had, her characteristic sigh coming from her as she buried him in her within seconds, a series of clenches drawing a moan from him before he propped himself up on his elbows, the hand on his shoulder causing his action to send her sprawling backwards for a moment before her left primary and right secondary arm caught her, his acorn pressing against the front of her canal as he hap-hazardly repositioned so that she was laying on the bed with him over her, wings spread slightly beneath her and his hands to either side of her neck, noses fractions of an inch apart, soft breaths coming from the both of them before he began to pull out at a snail's pace, Amber's tunnel clutching his length madly as gentle whimpers came from her before he stopped at the crown and slid in, even slower than his withdrawal, the Apian begging for him to got faster under her breath.

“What w-was that? _Nnnf_ ” he asked, the question a whisper as he began to slide back out, the pace a heartbeat faster than before, his lips ghosting over hers as he spoke before nibbling softly on her lower one.

Her response was hushed, too soft for him to hear again, but her body's reaction spoke louder than she did as her arms flung to him, her primaries' hands cradling his cheeks as she pulled him in for a kiss and her secondaries to his waist and pulling him closer as her back arched, their moans muffled and blending together as he sped up in his actions.

“Mmmnmmnhmnm!” droned from her before the kiss broke, her tone hushed and excited, “More, more, please! It-” a groan of pleasure tore from her lips, the sound low and resonating in the cavern-turned-den, the echos emphasizing the instrumentiod nature of her voice, “It feels good!”

A grunt of satisfaction came from Turen's throat before reengaging the kiss, a hand holding her head up softly as quiet plaps came from where their bodies met, moans faintly coming from her as her legs began to move from the sensations she felt, her tunnel clenching harder and harder before her eyes began to flutter open and closed, her primary hands moving from the back of his neck to his upper arms, back arching and flexing before the kiss shattered, a theremin-like howl of ecstasy tearing from her throat as her tunnel began to milk his phallus for all its worth, her left leg looping over his hip while her right rose at an angle before planting the chitin-heel between his legs, the male holding still as she rode out her climax, teeth grit as he restrained himself from releasing in her during it.

Amber came down from her orgasm, head lolling to the left weakly as she laid there, puffing in afterglow and faintly aware of him, before he began thrusting into her in earnest, seeking his own orgasm as her form began to writhe and stir from the sensations that pulsed from her heated loins.

“T-Turen? I'm feeling i-it again!” rose from her as he slammed his loins against hers, the hand on the back of her neck moving to her chin before he planted his lips on hers, the other hand of his moving to the leg that planted itself between his to mirror its companion.

She moaned as she was pushed back up the slope of arousal, the slaps of wet flesh against wet flesh accentuating every thrust he made into her, groans, growls, and lustful snorts coming from him as he slowly lowered himself on her, her hands gripping him tighter and tighter as she pulled his hips towards hers, ankles crossing each other in the small of his back before her eyes flew open and she broke the embrace their lips had.

Her head was pulled back by her climax while one of her primaries planted itself in the bedding beside her skull, a quiet whimper creeping into her throat as it gripped the comforter-like fabric in a fist before a howl like before tore from her, her body trembling before she heard low groans from Turen, his length flexing in her churning tunnel before she felt warmth spurt within her, the sensation sending her crashing into another high of pleasure and ecstasy, her secondaries flying from his hips and mimicking her hand by her head as they clutched the covers by her thighs before her abdomen-tail flailed for a brief moment before connecting stinger-first with the outside of his right thigh, the inch-long keratinous spike embedding itself for a brief moment as it pulsed claimant humour into him, a shudder wracking both of them before it slipped from him, a hollow glove of it left behind in the channel as her whole body fell limp, a schoolgirl giggle coming from her as his body followed her.

“H-holy.” was all Turen could say as he tried to shimmy off Amber, but denied his goal of lying next to her by her tunnel's vice-grip on his length, soft huffing being the only sound coming from her as she turned her head to him, eyes slightly unfocused as she looked at him before rolling atop him and curling as much as their predicament would let her.

“Thaaaaat, felt goods.” left her, the tone melodic and sing-song as she laid on him, her legs spread slightly as she began to shower kisses all over his chest and neck, the pace slowing as sleep overtook them, the male succumbing a few minutes before she did, the exhaustion of her virginity loss sapping the strength to hold her head up from her as she planted a final kiss on his chin before a soft whisper left her lips; “Thanks you.”


	4. The Helix; or How to Adapt to Hardships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this being a shorter chapter, YouTube and my brain couldn't come up with a good music station to listen to while typing this out.

A snore caught in a throat echoed around the den, Amber's semi-conscious form jumping at the sound slightly before she could process what she just heard, a squeak coming from her as her weight settled on her primary left arm before she heard another, this time feeling Turen's chest rumble in sync with it before she chirped softly, a part of her wanting to lay down alongside him before she shook her head softly at the thought.

“Turen, we need to get up. It's morning.”

A soft, drawn out groan at her comment before he pulled her onto his chest, his snores quieting down but continuing. She planted her primary hands on either side of his chest beneath his armpits and pushed herself up until she was sitting on his washboard of a belly, his arms not doing much to keep her to him before a grin crossed her features at a thought: a french kiss.

She leant forward as she readied herself for it, her lower lip moving just enough to display the split nature of her jaw before her teeth grazed his lips in a playful nip, the action earning her a questioning huff before she sealed her lips against his, her four-inch-long tongue dancing with his for a brief moment before diving past his uvula, the movement earning a strangled yelp from him as he pushed against her slightly, his hands going to her breasts unconsciously as she let him push her back up.

“That's _one_ way to wake up, holy shit!” spouted from Turen as he wiped the broken strands of saliva and mucus from his lower lip before he looked at her from the corner of his eye, the Apian giggling as her tongue pulled back in and her lower lip resumed hiding the nature of her mandible, his eyes going somewhat wide at the revelation. “Ho wow. I uh.... wow.”

Amber lowered her lip again, the chitin beneath it hinging forward slightly, her jaw splitting again at its end of travel. “All Abians hape it, holdober brom bebore.” she explained, her tongue poking halfway out and fudging her pronunciations before sliding back in, her lip returning to what Turen thought was the norm.

“That's.... not what I was expecting, given the semi-human look you have facially.” he explained, motioning to her slightly-wider, slightly-shorter wedge-shaped head as he began to sit up in the bed.

“Well, we can talk about that later. Part of me's saying it's morning, so we need to get going if we're gonna get there before mid-day.” she returned, getting off him as she finished speaking before bending over, her abdotail lifting slightly as she picked up her tattered blouse and ragged low-rise pants, the clothing loose in her grip before she tossed them aside with a disappointed huff.

“H-how do you know it's morning?” a slight stutter from Turen at her provocative gesture, Amber either disregarding what happened or unaware of it before he stood up and retrieved his own clothing, the woolen gambeson being the first thing he slipped on, the human glancing around as he searched for his pants only to see them in the Apian's grip, waving it slowly before moving towards the door in a teasing manner. “I need those!”

She broke out into a hearty chortle before tossing his pants back to him, before walking towards the bed again and picking up the coat he draped over her shoulders the day before and doing the toggle just below the collar as he put his pants on, brooch letting out an audible click as he fastened it. “I'm ready, Turen.”

“Don't forget your uncle's rifle. It'll be some time before we reach the gates, so you might want to close more of the toggles.” was his return, a small bag in hand as he put in small chunks of cheese and jerky in it before he drew near the door, his lady plucking the rifle from where it slid to during their night of exploration before he slid the batten door aside, the sound of its base scraping against stone letting the contact be known.

The oaken planks of the door vanished into a recess carved into the stone holding it up, only to reveal snow that came up to Amber's waist before Turen pushed his way into the fresh powder, the crystalline precipitate reaching his hips as walls of snow flanked them, the crunch of it underfoot crisp unlike the day before as they were funneled by the icy barriers that stopped just beneath his eyes.

“I have a question.” came from Turen, the sound of his voice breaking the wintery quiet and drone of their footfalls as they continued, the sun not quite above their heads, the snow walls around them coming to just below his chin and reflecting his comment somewhat.

“Yes?” Amber returned, a slight chattering of teeth carried with it, her secondaries pulling the ankle-length coat closed as she hugged herself, snow sticking to the chitin on her lower legs as she kept pace with him, the white dust just barely hiding her form from anyone not in the trench, the only thing visible above it being her antennae.

“How'd you know it was morning?”

“N-not sure. C-circadan rhythm or s-something like that. Please tell me we're c-close.”

“Snow's making it a little hard, but I think we're a good five minutes out. The bend up ahead should let us see the gates after we round it.” he responded, motioning with his left hand a little bit forward of where they were and to the right, fingers stacked on top of one another with palm visible before it fell to his side for a moment.

Turen raised the hand that he had used to indicate where he thought the path lead, only do to a double-take and a curse under his breath. “Damnit.”

“Wha-” left Amber, her question cut off as she saw a twinning helix on his palm, and remembered that mark not being there yesterday. “T-turen, what _is_ that?”

“A selection mark. We _need_ to get to the village, _**now.**_ ”


	5. The Metamorphosis; or How to Have One's Inner Desires Revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/YTojZ-aqyvc
> 
> Watch this for context on some of the events within this chapter

The two sprinted through the nature-made trench, footfalls compacting the snow into ice with the sound of grinding plastic gears, breaths forming clouds that washed around their jaws as they ran.

“Turen, slow down! What's so urgent about that mark?!” Amber shouted over the noise and distance, her thoughts considering removing the coat and using her wings to catch up.

“If I don't get back to the village _now_ , what stores my home has'll go bad, that's why it's so urgent!” the man in question spat back, the snow barely a hindrance to his movement in his rush.

“Wha-” Amber tried to retort, only for her gait to send her nearly sprawling forward before she caught herself against a wall of the channel, her mind trying to figure out what he meant before she settled on taking the coat off and folding it in her grasp and using her wings to catch up.

“Turen, what do you mean by that?! It's the middle of winter and from what I've seen your culture has good ways to preserve food!” the bee-morph shouted over the buzz of her wings as she gained on him, the coat roughly folded over her secondaries with the downdraft kicking up loose powder.

“Ritual! It's part of a ritual that if we don't complete, our crops or stores fail!” he answered, turning sharply around the bend he had pointed out, the snow around his legs sloping downwards towards his ankles before he raised his left hand, palm facing the twin-towered gatehouse before commotion rose from within the structures.

Another voice cut through the din of Amber's buzzing wings, loud enough for them to hear over the dozens of yards of distance between them and the towers; “Tell the Chieftain, he's found her! Don't know why hi-”

Another voice cut the first off, the tone of dread on it. “He's marked! That's why his hand's up!”

“Open the gates, the both of you!” came from Turen as he approached, Amber flying over the gatehouse as the barricades ground open, a crowd gathering on the far side with a man adorned in bearskin, nacre, and gold moving his way through, both his captain and Amber's uncle following him, and a lone automaton trailing them, the group reaching the front just as Turen made it through the gates, Amber landing in front of her only blood relative left.

“My Queen? I... I was afraid you had died.” her uncle spoke, a wheeze trailing his sentence before a soft grunt came from him, Amber slamming into him due to the energy in her landing.

“Unc- Uncle? You're.... missing an arm.” came from Amber as she motioned to where his right secondary arm used to be.

“Yes, I am alright,” a chitter from him interrupting his speech, his primaries taking the rifle from her as his remaining secondary moved the gauze aside, “The people of this place saved me from the wounds I had suffered. Are you hurt?”

A pregnant pause came from her before she answered, tone quiet and hushed; “Would doing it for the first time count?”

Her uncle's eyes went wide at his niece's response before moving over to Turen's father and tapping him on the shoulder.

“It appears there is a.... complication, involving your son.”

The chieftain does a brief double-take at the Apian's insinuation, before his focus darts to Turen, a mild look of confusion on his face for a short moment before it shifts to one of realization.

“ _Oh._ Oh no. Please, for the love of-” His father's rant was cut short by a tinny, deeply feminine voice.

“He did. That is why we selected him. Dadia-Miam was razed to the ground by Mad Maxers. Their people sought refuge further north, and Hawksnest is where they found it. Princess Amber is the last of her lineage.”

“Dadia-Miam? Where on God's green Earth is that?!”

“It is two weeks' journey southwards, along the New River before branching off at Boone, North Carolina. Turen, Amber, follow this unit.”

“Wait, _Amber gets to come with?”_ came from Turen after the gynoid addressed him, the male leaning around his father, surprised confusion in his words before he maneuvered around the two older gentlemen, narrowly dodging his father's grasp with a yelp as he began to rave about the betrothal arrangements that had been made with Red Ash.

A look of confusion came across Amber's face before she saw Turen move to the bipedal machine, taking flight for a brief moment as she vaulted over her uncle and Turen's father and matching pace with his son as he followed the gynoid, the crowd parting like the biblical Red Sea as the trio walked down the main street of Hawksnest, archaic log cabins, some with multiple floors, flanking them.

“I'm a little lost, Turen. What's so special about me being able to come with?”

“You're the first one to join a Selected along their Last Mile, as we call it.”

“Wh-” a slight pause in her speech, “What do you mean 'Last Mile?'”

A heavy sigh from him, “This time tomorrow I won't look like this.” he answered, motioning not just to his face, but his whole body as well. “I will say this:” a pause from him this time, his right hand coming to her left jaw and gently tugging her around until he faced her, “I wasn't expecting you to be....”

He paused his thoughts as he took her form in, her skull nearly an inverse teardrop from the human and bee influences on its structure, the orbits of her eyes reaching back slightly further than on a normal woman, the straw gold of her chitin forming a chevron that swept down to her nose from her antennae, her nostrils hidden in platinum-blonde fuzz that grew in the marking near her nose. Her eyes proved to be her namesake, with brushed-brass-hued crescents bedighted her cheekbones towards the outside as she blinked, revealing caramel-hued eyelids, all set against charcoal-black chitin and slate-grey 'sclera' with a jet-grey hex tessellation, the sound of the gynoid beckoning them snapping him from reverie.

“I didn't expect you to be this eyecatching, beneath the frost.” Turen repeated, a chuckle coming from him at his mind's reaction on truly seeing her. “Well, let's go. Not a wise idea to keep them waiting.”

A sound of cautious agreement came from Amber at his comment, the straw-gold chitin tinting sandy brown from hearing what many of her kind would view as plain marking in such praise, a giddy feeling in her chest as she began to follow him and the gynoid.

Nearly half an hour had passed as they moved through town, quiet mutters and hushed whispers alighting within any crowds the trio had passed before they reached a towering cliff face, a cavernous maw of natural stone stood before them as the gynoid began to speak, its gait slowing slightly.

“Follow.” was all that it said, motioning with a single three-fingered hand deeper into the cave while Amber stood in awe of it, the sensation of Turen's fingers twining with hers snapping her back to reality, her feet moving in time with his as he walked into the hollow, shoulders squared and confident within the darkening environ before the gyniod gestured right, faint lights showing on its raised arm, the footfalls of all three echoing while they walked for what seemed like an hour in the dark before the gynoid vanished behind drapery that let slip light along its lower hem.

“Follow.” came from behind the curtain in the gynoid's voice, Turen reaching out at the call, his hand brushing the curtain aside before bright white blinded the both of them for a moment before the floor shifted beneath them and pulled them past the curtain's mark, Amber gasping at the movement and Turen's stance stabilizing them both as their eyes adjusted to the light.

“Whoa. What _is_ this place, Turen?” Amber spoke, her eyes adjusting faster to the light than his, the bee-morph enraptured with the stories-tall hall that sloped inwards toward the ceiling, other machines and walkers ambling around them, some carrying crates of spare parts and some bearing containers of raw materials on their backs, the floor moving the trio along before it came to a halt, the inertia staggering both organic passengers, Turen's eyes blinking away the blindness before he looked up and took in the sheer size of the hall they were just carried down.

“Turen of Hawksnest,” a deep, robotic voice said, the man in question looking down to its source, a skeletal construct, the machine registering that he had detected it before it spoke again, “head to the left door and prepare. You may remove your clothes if you so wish.”

“Amber of Dadia-Miam, follow me. You will have say on how Turen will appear after this procedure is complete.” the gynoid quipped, spinning around on its heels and walking away.

“I'll 'bee' seeing you, Amber.” Turen spoke softly, pulling her into a hug while a soft chuckle came from him before he left for the indicated door. Amber weakly broke the hug he had started before touching her lips to his, a slight glare on her face afterwards, the pun sinking in just as the door Turen was pointed to and entered hissed closed.

“Amber of Dadia-Miam, follow me. You will have say on how Turen will appear after this procedure is complete.” the gynoid spoke again, stock-still next to a console beneath a window, a model of Turen floating above the console.

“So... how do I...?” She asked, looking up just in time to see a mostly-nude Turen clamber onto the only piece of furniture in the massive empty room, a surgical table with cuffs at its corners before it swung to an angle and machinery descended from the ceiling, needles and vacant claspers making up the tangled mess of hardware as it drew close to him.

“The unit already has basic conversion programs running, only the details are missing before it can proceed.” came from the gynoid, motioning towards the console as the model flickered for a moment, before being replaced by a six-limbed figure with insectoid wings on its back and an abdotail above its rear, its skull an inverted teardrop much like her own. A menu flashed into being next to the model, showcasing many species of bee local to the region.

Amber scrolled through the selection with her right secondary, her left one pulled up underneath her crossed primaries before she found one that she drew interest in: the blue orchard bee. She selected the option, and the model next to her flickered into solid color, chitin Cambridge-blue in color with Russian violet skin visible elsewhere.

“How do I change the colors?” she asked, the outstretched secondary pulling back a little as the question left her.

“Tap on the region you want changed, select the color, and double-tap your selection.”

“Okay, let's get rid of that purple.” came from her as she followed the gynoid's instructions, a finger tapping the model's chest before a color wheel popped up, her finger sliding along its rim before she reached a coppery-browngrey, the gynoid quipping the color's name as cinereous as she double-tapped it, the model reflecting her choice. “There we go. Now, how do I change markings? And make it so the scars he has now become markings?”

“One moment, contacting databases...” left the gynoid before the sounds of a server-farm emitted from her, occasional twitches moving its arms. “Double-tap the species menu's top border, that will bring up the main menu which has the options you are looking for on it.”

Amber did just that, the species menu closing with a blip before five new menu options took its place: Genitalia, Markings, Height, Weight, and Scars. She tapped the Markings option, the model zooming into a close-up of its face, the irises a pale blue, nearly white with void-like 'sclera', before she tapped the nose of it and a new menu popping up, showing dozens of markings ranging from simple chevrons like hers to emblems of nations she didn't recognize. The born Apian scrolled through the options for minutes, going from top to bottom of the menu multiple times as she debated on his markings, settling on a much shallower-angle chevron on his forehead, sea-green in color before she added jungle-green peach-fuzz hair around his nostrils, before she tapped on the model's eyes and changing the irises to aquamarine, and the 'sclera' to eigengrau with feldgrau hex tessellations.

“How do I add body markings?”

“Tap and swipe upwards to go down.”

The female moved her hand in the actions she was told, the model's torso coming into view moments later and tapping on the chest chitin, adorning it with a steep chevron whose open end flanked his neck, the narrow end reaching a shallow divot in the middle of the model's true abdomen, the added marking colored reseda green before she double-tapped the top of the markings menu, the main menu taking its place. She paused briefly, her finger moving between Genitalia and Scars before she tapped the latter option, the model zooming out and highlighting the various scars Turen had.

“How do I know if that scar'll stay?”

“It will be solid on the model rather than transparent.”

Instantly she tapped the starburst scar on the model, the faint outline replaced by a white starburst, a slash-scar on both primary arm going from shoulder to elbow already white on one whereas the other had the scar on his chitin 'vambrace', going from the inside of the model's elbow to the back of the hand was faded, switching to white with a quick tap from her finger. She twice-tapped the menu's upper limit, the main flashing for a brief moment before she tapped the Genitalia option, the model's projection zooming in on its crotch, an apparent Ken-doll style lack greeting her before the menu blipped into existence.

She scrolled through the menu, tapping on the horse-like sheathed option, a chitin cap appearing on the model's glans before the sheath turned chitinous, a metallic sheen coming across it.

Amber hesitantly touched the option for external testes, a chitin-covered sack growing beneath the sheathed member shortly after, before she started scrolling through the menu as quickly as she could, the menu stopping at sliders for size. Curious as to what they controlled, she slid one to the left of middle, and noticed the sack shrink slightly before she slid it to the right and watched it grow from the size of a small tangerine to the size of a large orange, the slider at its max value. She looked at the other sliders, and saw three labeled 'knot' that were greyed out. She touched one, and it turned white under her finger and she slid it to the right, not paying attention to the model before she released it, and saw the penis of it erect with swelling at the base, easily rivaling the sack in diameter.

She touched the bottom slider of the three and slid it right, watching as she did so. The swelling moved up and up the length, before stopping behind the glans, giving it the appearance of a man with an inner tube around his chest. Amber tapped the middle one, and slid it in the direction of the others, watching as the knot began to lengthen and narrow slightly, eventually reaching halfway down the shaft before the slider was maxed out.

A final slider drew her attention, one labeled 'length', before she was about to step back, her hand still hovering over the console as she considered moving it.... and she did, to the right, but only a tenth as far as the others, the erect phallus' head reaching just above the navel of the model.

“Okay. I'm done.”

“Very well. Please, step aside while this unit begins the procedure.” droned the gynoid, walking towards the console as Amber stepped away, a three-fingered claw opening fully before gripping the edge of it and turning, the section of the surface it was holding rotating with before a loud 'click!' resounded in the hall, a dull thrumming coming from the machinery on the other side of the glass drawing near Turen as the table pitched back slightly, a pair of claspers drawing near his throat.

A muted 'thwick' came from the room as the claspers affixed a collar to him, hoses and cables connecting it to the mass of hardware, before four mechanical tentacles slithered through the mass, two swollen from objects within them, their paths positioning a swollen tube and a spine-like arm on either side of his torso, the thinner of each pair tipped with rib cutters, scalpels, speculums, and injector needles. They tentatively tapped on the sides of his rib cage, scalpels flaying flesh with the delicacy of a certified itamae preparing fugu sushi, the male barely registering their actions before the crack of snipped bone slipped past the glass Amber watched through, the swollen grapplers planting themselves on the open cavity before tiny claws lining their mechanical irises pulled themselves free from the discs holding their contents in, the metallic oculi sliding open as they began to disgorge what they held, the minuscule fingers stitching flesh to flesh as a silver fluid was pumped into Turen.

His head pressed against the table as the fluid greyed the blood vessels it traveled through, a dull silver spiderweb branching out along his skin before smoky beads of fluid forced their way from the sutures, only to vanish a moment later as the separate mounds of tissue became one with him, eyes bolting open as he brought what was added up into his field of view: Cambridge-blue gauntlets with two true fingers and a thumb, the skin between the plates a coppery brownish-gray.

The machine grabbed his new arms and fastened them to plates before attaching them to the table he was mounted on, the arms that held his new set reaching behind him and dismounting sections of it beneath him, the cold steel of it giving was to lukewarm air along his thoracic spine, the ones that excised mountings for his secondaries shifting behind him as smaller cousins of them approached his face, his vision going grayscale as they began to pare away his face the gray fluid from before beading up around his view before a mask of some kind was implanted in his former face's stead, followed by his jaw audibly twisting and cracking as it was bifurcated, the taste of steel on his tongue as he felt his teeth fuse into three, the old enamel giving way to a cerulean front.

Turen felt his tongue go numb, the machine grabbing the tip and pulling softly, the action lengthening more and more as his vision faded back to color, his eyes becoming cylindrical as he felt something grow from the whites, his peripheral vision slowly tessellating as it grew wider and wider, to the point he could see the floor in the corner of his eyes. He felt his tongue get released before it slid back into his mouth, the action that wouldn't have taken even a heartbeat before taking seconds to complete now as he realized his tongue was far longer than it was, the organ taking far more of his concern than it should have.

He felt another pulse of the silvery syrup flood his body, twinges of pain at the base of his spine and between his shoulder blades screaming their presence to him for only a brief moment before the twinge at his rear flexed and twitched, the sensations alien to him for a moment briefly before they faded into his subconscious, his inch-long stinger sliding out before slipping back into his new abdotail. The twinges between his shoulders flared in pain, as if he had just stuck his hand into the blacksmith's forge, before a buzzing roared from beneath the table, transparent wings with antique-white leading edges filling the corners of his view before he shifted his head, antennae whispering their existence to him in their gravity-fueled motions. On his back were two pairs of wings, the main set easily his height if he were to splay them wide, and the second Amber's, his back already chitin-covered and sensations of flight muscles contracting announcing their strength.

“Holy hell.” Turen whispered, a groan of exhaustion leaving him as he felt his hands and feet shift and warp from the influences of the metamorphic ichor that continued to be pumped into him, numbness overtaking them as he heard the rubbing of hardened flesh against metal before something thumped against his loins. He whipped his head as far forward as he could, his eyes landing on a tube pressing against his penis, a needle filled with the same gray liquid that had been pumping into him through the collar hovering over the base of his manhood for a moment in preparation. It pushed against his penile base from above, the hair doing nothing to guard against it before it halted, the fluid staying within it as if anticipating something to happen.... and indeed it was.

He felt something push against the base of his psuedoabdomen, the chitin holding for only a moment as his mind realized it was another needle, the hollow tube slipping in near-painlessly as it companion on his front held its fire, a cup slipping over his sack unseen just as the one beneath his abdotail stopped its progress in. His eyes shot up and wide as he howled in surprise, the human sound shifting to a deep gong-like ring as the liquid was pumped into him, the tube pressing against his shaft pulling away as the needles finished unloading their charge into him, a numbness drawing his attention back down.

His length began to bob as the cup on his sack pulled away, the motion of his manhood pulling it down and down towards his sack filling him with dread before the characteristic hue of his chitin began to grow on the glans and at the base of his shaft. His heart began to pound in his ears as huffs left his nose, the exhales moving fuzz each time, as he watched the flesh around his base swell slightly with each of his heartbeats, the gray-blue natural polymer beginning to encompass his phallus as a metallic sheen came to the chitin.

The table's cuffs snapped open as he began to pant, the collar still tethering him to the machine as the hose jumped in time with the silver spiderweb renewing itself as more and more of his form was covered in the biomineraloid that gauntleted his arms and greaved his legs, skin falling from his chest as his neck turned cinereous in color, a chitinous chestplate pushing more and more human skin off, the few scars that still adorned his form turning eggshell white.... But none of that was his focus.

Turen staggered forward of the table before falling to all sixes, his secondaries' palms pressed flat against the white tiled floor as he watched his sack swell, and swell, and swell from the previous inch-and-three-quarters in diameter to four, his length stirring from its sheath as the heads of arousal pulsed down his spine, watching in amazement as his right secondary moved to wrap around the throbbing length that was now between his legs. His fingers grazed the twitching organ for only a moment, the shaft _jumping_ upwards at the contact, the tip nearly slapping against his abs, the skin on his six-pack stiffening and squaring out as pre _drooled_ from his length, a dull throb in his sack and abdotail coaxing the other secondary to join its twin idling by his base.

He wrapped both secondaries around the sagging breeding tool, a low growl coming from his throat as he slowly slid them up along his rod, a dribble of pre landing beneath him as his hands moved them back down to the base, the pace ever-so-slightly faster, and back up to his chitin-capped tip, a wet schipt coming from his loins as he began to masturbate, his primaries clenching into fists, unclenching shortly after as the sounds grew faster and faster, growls and huffs coming from him as he watched himself rub one out.

_Schipt-schipshcipd_

A growl from him as he picked up the pace, hands clapping against his loins.

_Schpschipshipshlit_

A huff from him before the collar clicked open, the whir of the machine that changed him ascending into the ceiling disregarded as he shuddered, his head pulling up from watching his hands work him over.

_Schschschshl-_

A pause as he got up off the floor, eyes flicking to the glass panel, Amber watching him with surprise and arousal on her face. Turen walked over to the transparent barrier that separated the two, his irises wide in lust as his secondaries continued to rub him off, little droplets of pre landing on the pane before he spoke.

“IwantyouAmber,” a huff as he rested his primaries on the glass wall, “Iwantyousomuch.”

He closed his eyes as his secondaries became a blur, grunts, growl, as huffs coming through the glass as his length began to swell, the forward half spreading and catching in his grip as he began to throw his hips into it.

“Pleasetellmeyouwantmetoo,Amber!” came from him as splurts of pre began to splash against the glass, his arousal tinting the chitin on his cheeks orchid before his head pulled down, “Please!”

“I do! I wan-” was her response, muffled by the glass before his gong-like howl rang out, a loud smack of his secondaries against his hips before a jet of thick, nearly syrupy, cum hit the glass with a wet thump, followed by another, and another, and another. Turen's chitinous forehead tapped against the glass as he began to slump, his sack pulling taught against his rod as his abdotail pulsed in sync with not just it, but his ropes as well.

A huff of pleasure came from him, his rod weakly dribbling his milky-white seed as he pushed himself off the wall, the door he entered the room through sliding open as he pulled his secondaries away from his slowly-softening cock, the occasional bead of jism pushing itself to the surface.

“I,” the human-turned-drone briefly paused his speech to sigh in ecstasy, “Know _exactly_ what we're doing when we get back to Hawksnest, _Princess_.” left him, a primary sliding to his loins on the final word before pulling her into a soft, heartfelt kiss, a gentle hum coming from him as their lips touched, his secondaries softly squeezing her rear as her voice joined his in sound.

“Wh-at would that be?” Amber asked, pulling away for air, the shortness of her breath breaking the first word in two.

“Oh we _both_ know.” Turen answered, a flirtatiously predatory grin on his face.


End file.
